


Earthbound

by Makimono



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "Hard to relate." - Zexnssei, Aged-Up Character(s), Drama & Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Light Angst, Male Protagonist, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Supernatural Elements, not a ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makimono/pseuds/Makimono
Summary: It’s been ten years since the last time Akaashi Keiji saw the girl who used to follow him everywhere, but when they finally meet, they’re faced with the fact that they can’t talk nor touch each other.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Abdabx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abdabx/gifts).



> Hi, it’s been a while… :’)
> 
> So I got 4 requests:  
> 1\. Write for Abbie’s birthday. (Happy birthday! Sorry it’s 3 days too late…)  
> 2\. Write about Akaashi Keiji.  
> 3\. Write from male POV.  
> 4\. Write about grown-ups.  
> Let’s kill 4 birds with 1 stone. 😊
> 
>  **Disclaimer: My idea is too big for this story, so it’s a little messy here and there. Apologies in advance.**  
>  I’ve written the entire thing and will post them all this week. I hope you guys will like it. 
> 
> Happy reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *

I never thought that a high school reunion would be tiring rather than entertaining. It’s only been five minutes since we cooked our shabu-shabu at Nabezo Shinjuku, but the people sitting around me have revealed more things than they should. One can’t stop boasting about his annual salary as a project manager in a private-owned oil and gas company, while the pregnant woman next to him keeps describing the struggles she and her husband had to go through to have their second child.

It’s been a decade since we graduated, and I have a hard time remembering everyone’s names. I occasionally had lunch with those who attended the same university as me, but I rarely met them outside of the campus area. Sometimes I complied with my old volleyball teammates’ request of going out somewhere together, but as years went by, we got stuck in our own hectic routine and forgot about each other for months. That said, I don’t see the point of bothering myself with the affairs of people whom I’ll never talk to after we part ways tonight.

“What about you, Akaashi? What do you do? Are you in a relationship?” A woman who appears older than her age asks me. It might be because of her thick purple-dominated makeup, but I can’t recall how she looked back then.

“I’m working as a data analyst for Mizuno here in Tokyo, and no, I’m not in a relationship or seeing anyone,” I answer concisely, hoping that this doesn’t lead her to another question.

“Ah, really? What a waste…”

I smile, feeling proud that my trick works on the prying individuals who are far more interested in dating lives than other endless subjects. They can ask about the next stepping stone in my career or investing in China’s growing markets, but they don’t. Many adults have been trapped in this situation at least ten times a year especially during family gatherings. It’s a strange habit to keep since most Japanese don’t settle down when they’re still in their twenties.

“Hey, Akaashi. Look at all the pretty ladies around us. Why don’t you go introduce yourself to some? I’m a guy, but I must admit that you look fine and your job pays well,” the project manager adds, and I wonder if he can stop mentioning money. I glance at his fingers and find no ring, which means he might be just as single as I am.

“How about you?” I brace myself and ask.

“Me? Hahaha! I broke up with my girlfriend of two years. She cheated on me with a younger man, but it’s a story for another time. I don’t want to make stomach sick when we’re in an all-you-can-eat restaurant.”

 _Was it because you’re too materialistic?_ I think to myself because I’m polite enough not to say whatever I feel out loud. As much as I don’t enjoy my time here, I must leave a good impression. I’ve lived my life calmly so I won’t ruin my reputation over something frivolous. My blunt side can only be seen by people I’m close with, but none of them have arrived. Once they’re here, I’ll move to a new table with them so I can appreciate this event a little more.

“But Akaashi, didn’t you date that girl who was a year below us? What’s her name again? She was the president of the student council,” says a guy with glasses who’s been quiet.

“Ah! L/N F/N!” another woman exclaims.

There’s a soft tug in my heart when I hear that name, but I hide it by shaking my head. “I never dated her. She was like a sister.”

“Really? Was it only a gossip then?” The guy pouts. “But you two were so sweet together. She used to bake you cookies and stuff. How’s she?”

“I’m not too sure. I haven’t seen her since our graduation ceremony, but I heard she moves to another prefecture in her third year and now works as a photographer.”

“That’s true. I follow her Instagram, but the comment section is turned off. She also uses her Twitter to post her photographs and nothing else. She's a very private person,” the woman with excessive makeup chimes in, twirling the straw of cola that just arrived as her eyes roam back to me. “How come you didn’t meet her in the past ten years? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened.”

“But are you still texting or calling her?”

“No. I haven’t seen or heard anything from her.”

“Huh? Why?” The dents on her forehead become deeper.

“I don’t have her number.”

“What? How come?”

“I just… don’t?” I mutter, a little afraid that this woman will scratch my face if I say something she doesn’t agree with.

“What about reaching her through Instagram? Twitter? Akaashi, there are many ways to find someone. Don’t tell me you don’t have an ac—” she stops when I don’t flinch and lets out a heavy sigh as if I’ve committed a great sin. “Still, Akaashi. People don’t forget about their best friend that easily. If you ever wonder about her, you’ll at least make an effort to keep in touch with her. Something must’ve happened then.”

“I’m sorry…”

A sound coming from the table beside me causes everyone to stop whatever they’re doing for a moment. Nakamura, a petite woman whom I’ve known since middle school raises her hand, hinting that she has a piece of information to share. I haven’t taken a good look at everyone’s face, but I dare to compare her beauty to a fairy. Her choice of wearing a pink blouse and tight grey skirt makes her overall style is very minimalistic, and that’s what I prefer to see.

“I can’t help but overhear your conversation… Haven’t you heard anything about L/N?” Her voice comes out velvety but with a haunting undertone.

“No. Is there something we must know?” the woman who keeps bothering me asks.

“Ah… I’m a layout designer for a tourism website that features a lot of her work… Around three months ago, she got into an accident and have been in a coma since…”

I try to maintain my cool when my heart pounds faster for all the wrong reasons. Although she’s longer a part of my life, it should be normal for anyone to feel this numb after hearing such unfortunate news about their friend. I gaze around to make sure I’m not the odd man out, but what I get is everyone’s eyes on me, some looking concern while the rest are judgmental. If their mind could speak, I’d most likely hear “you’re the worst person ever!” and “how could you know this just now?”.

“She lives in a city called Tsu, but she’s been treated at Mie University Hospital. If somebody wants to visit, I can give her mother’s phone number. I know the area so I can help more if you need me to,” Nakamura continues.

“I’ll visit her. Please give me the number,” I volunteer without thinking twice. Maybe it’s out of guilt, but just like what the glasses guy said; this person and I used to be inseparable, and I was content every time she was around. It’s never too late to show my gratitude, even if she’s become a comatose patient who won’t be aware of me.

* * *

After saying goodbye to everyone at the reunion and making a promise to meet up again soon, I don’t immediately leave like most of them. I go a few meters away from the crowded restaurant and stop to take my phone out of my jacket once I reach a quieter spot. There isn’t the slightest hesitation when I dial F/N’s mother phone number like I’m so sure about what to say—I’m actually not—and I’m thrilled when she picks it up within seconds.

“Hello,” a raspy voice greets me from the other side.

“Hello, good evening. Am I speaking to L/N-san?” I try to sound as courteous as possible.

“Yes, it’s me. Who am I speaking with?”

“I’m Akaashi Keiji, your daughter’s high school friend.”

She stops for two seconds before continuing, “Akaashi Keiji? Her upperclassman? The one from the volleyball club?”

“Yes. Correct,” I confirm. Since we were good friends, F/N must’ve shared one or two things about me to her family.

“How are you, Akaashi? Who gave you my phone number?”

“I’m good, thank you for asking. I just had a high school reunion with my year group, and one of the girls is working for a website that features your daughter’s photographs. She told me what happened and gave your phone number in case I want to visit. I’m sorry to hear about the accident.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you very much. Does this mean you want to meet her?”

“I do. May I?”

“Of course!” Her answer comes faster than the night wind grazing my hair. “When are you planning to come? This city is a little secluded so I can arrange everything for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll take care of it myself, thank you. How about next Saturday?”

“It’s perfect! It’s rare for her high school friends to come over, so she’ll be pleased!”

I smile at her adorable reaction. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll call you again soon. Good night, L/N-san.”

“Thank you. Good night to you too.”

“Thank you,” I say before ending the call and catching the bus that comes thirty seconds later with a lot of friends who live nearby. Their continuous reminiscences about our teachers are fun throughout the ride, but they can’t distract me from pondering the next trip I’m about to embark on.

Once I get back to the flat I rent near my employer, I rush to open my laptop and do a quick research about Tsu, a place that I never heard before today. It’s a small city with a population of three hundred thousand people, compared to Tokyo’s nine million. It reminds me of a less developed version of Sendai where hills and mountains are within everyone’s view, but I’m not supposed to say much as I only went there several times to meet some old friends.

There are four ways to Tsu from Tokyo; by car, bus, train, or plane, and it’ll take me five, eight, three, and one hour respectively. I omit the first option because I don’t own a car. The second is the stupidest, so I don’t bother to check on the route and price. The most efficient way is by plane that costs around twenty-six thousand yen, and it confuses me that it’s the same as train considering the two-hour gap and dissimilarities in terms of service.

Since Tsu doesn’t have an airport, I book the nine a.m. flight next Saturday to Nagoya, then I’ll pay for a ferry there to arrive at the city faster. I spend another eight thousand for a room at Dormy Inn Tsu, which according to many reviews is the best hotel near Mie University Hospital. The most exciting part about being a working adult is having my own saving and spending my own money without my parents’ involvement. I’m also lucky because they never beg me to come home, although I still do at least once a month.

But right after finishing my transaction, I mull over my precipitous decision. I’ve only flown twice in my life and both times were to attend my coworker’s wedding in Hokkaido. I’ve never been on a ferry before. My family isn’t a big fan of traveling, but every time we have to go somewhere, we’ll opt to use train like what most Japanese people do. As someone who’s never gone too far from home—and all by myself at that—I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m not scared of getting lost. I’m just wondering if meeting a person who might not remember my face is worth the effort.

* * *

A week passes and here I am, leaving Nagisamachi Ferry Terminal with a navy backpack that carries less than it appears and a phone in my right hand. Following the GPS, I walk for ten minutes to Otobeashi Bus Stop that’s located in the middle of a residential area with date palm trees dividing the empty roads—I was expecting to see a lot of cherry blossoms, but I’m clearly not in the right area. It doesn’t take long for a bus to come and drive me for another ten minutes to Sakaemachi Sanchome Bus Stop. All that’s left is to head north by foot for around two minutes, and I reach the Dormy Inn.

From the outside, this grey building looks like an old apartment or low-star hotel in Tokyo. The receptionists greet me and explain things I already read from the reservation website I used; the 24/7 access to two hot springs and one sauna, breakfast from six thirty to eight thirty at the restaurant on the first floor, paid massage services, coin-operated washing machines, and even prohibition to bring pets and smoke inside.

After nodding my head to their lengthy briefing, they hand me the key—not card—to room number 421. When I get into the elevator and then the fourth floor, I notice how packed this place really is during a non-holiday season. An unknown city doesn’t equal to a small-scale industry, so a lot of professionals or developers must have their businesses here. Or, they can be a mere visitor from a bigger city like I am.

Much to my surprise, the room I get is identical to my apartment’s. There’s a bed that fits one adult my size, a wooden desk with an LED TV smaller than thirty inches, a window with a brown curtain, and an air conditioner above it. The major difference is the en-suite bathroom, a built-in closet next to it, a small table for a coffee maker, and a mini-fridge placed at the end of the room, just right between the desk and bed. I have little to say because with eight thousand yen, I’ll be getting the same quality anywhere else in Japan.

I arrange the things I bring inside the closet and on the bathroom’s sink, then I spend enough time to clean myself up. Once I lay on the bed, I realize how tired I’ve gotten, and I should blame it on my lack of exercise. I was an active member of my university’s volleyball club until my last semester, but I kind of left it after graduation because working for eight hours, sometimes ten, drains me out. It’s so hilarious to think I can’t remember the last time I held the ball that used to be the center of my life for more than ten years, but I’m not the only one who’s changed.

Rather than contemplating about the past that can’t be repeated, I rise up and grab the phone I put next to my pillow. I should inform F/N’s mother about my arrival, so I call her number after a while—I did tell her after buying my ticket and everything, but it was a week ago. Unlike previously, she doesn’t right away answer. I try once again because it’s my style to give people a second chance, and thank my patience, she finally picks up.

“Good morning, Akaashi,” she calls my name ever-so-cheerfully like we’ve known each other for longer. It’s still fifteen minutes before ten. During my day off, I usually wake up around this time.

“Good morning. I just arrived at my hotel. Is it okay if I go to the hospital now?”

“Oh, that was fast! You may go now, but I still have some work to do. How about at four so I can be there with you as well? Don’t you want to rest for a bit?”

“Well…” I rotate my left shoulder and feel a mild strain back there. “Okay. Four o’clock.”

“Okay, Akaashi. Rest well. Please call me when you’re about to leave.”

“Will do. Have a nice day.”

“Likewise.”

Not like it matters, but she’s so busy that she has to be the one dropping the call in a hurry. I switch my shirt and trousers into something shorter and looser before jumping onto the bed once again. As a renowned heavy sleeper, I don’t forget to set an alarm at three on my phone—sleeping for five hours should be plenty. The blanket I get is perfect against the chillness of the room, and it helps me give in to my exhaustion.

* * *

I wake up a few minutes before my alarm goes off. I suppose since I had enough sleep before my flight, I don’t need a super long afternoon nap that can ruin my nighttime. After washing my face, I make a cup of coffee with a packet of cream and sugar provided by the hotel. It tastes kind of bland and makes me miss the ones I often get from the cafés near my apartment, but what do I expect from free amenities? I should try the hot spring if I want something rewarding for staying here, although I must share the pool with other people.

After finishing my last sip of unsatisfying coffee, I call F/N’s mother and notify her that I’m ready to leave. She’s about to arrive herself, and she’ll text me the things I should ask the receptionists once I get there. With a wallet in my jeans’ pocket, a bag of Funawa’s famous sweet potatoes as a souvenir from Tokyo, and phone to lead my way, I lock my room and head for another bus stop. The sound of my heartbeat is louder than the three-minute ride I must take, but it’s because I’m about to meet someone whom I haven’t seen for a long time under exceptional circumstances.

There are some stores around the hospital, and I realize I haven’t bought anything for F/N. I stop by a floristry with the least customers and examine the variations of flowers put in woven baskets in front of the window glass. I can’t tell each of their names besides the generic like roses and sunflowers. It’s also been a while since I bought flowers for someone sick, and I remember that they’re generally not permitted. Once again, I call F/N’s mother for some enlightenment.

“Hello, Akaashi. Is everything good?” she inquires.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, but can I bring real flowers?”

“Carnations are okay.”

“All right.”

“But what about dolls? Maybe a teddy bear? It’s easier to maintain.”

“Does a twenty-seven-year-old woman want a teddy bear?”

“Hahaha. You’re right. Thank you for your consideration, Akaashi.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be arriving in five minutes.”

I put down my phone and step into the store where a woman older than my mother welcomes me with a smile brighter than the lamps above our head. There’s a younger lady behind the counter, but she’s too busy scribbling on a book to notice my presence. There’s also a guy who’s arranging the mess happening everywhere. I must admit that this place needs a thorough cleanup, and I’m glad I’m not allergic to pollen or dust.

“Hello. I’m about to visit a patient. Can I have a bucket of mixed carnations?” I ask the woman.

“Ah, we advise giving hospitalized patients flowers in a jar. It’s easy to carry and already has water in it, so the family doesn’t need to worry about where to put them.”

“That sounds good. Do you have clear or colored jars?”

“We have both options. Is it for a girl? What about white? It’ll look the best with the mixed carnations.”

“I’ll go with that.”

“Okay, please wait for a moment.”

“Thank you,” I say as I watch her walk around the place, picking objects from here and there with the help of the guy from before.

It isn’t a minute later when she comes back with another question, “Do you want a written card? And do you want to write it yourself?”

“Please write ‘get well soon’,” I decide fast because I know that beautiful handwriting isn’t a virtue of mine.

“That’s it?”

“Yes—” I hold my voice for a moment before adding, “Also, ‘I’m sorry for not looking after you’.”

Her saddened expression reveals how touched she is by my words, and she nods to show an approval that I don’t actually need. “That’s very sweet of you. I’ll make sure to write them well.”

“Okay…” I have nothing else to say because it’d be obnoxious of me to tell her that the card wouldn’t have a great impact since the one getting it isn’t able to read it right away.

* * *

One of the top things I’m curious about is the kind of place F/N is admitted to. Since my proficiency in the medical field is purely taken from TV shows and fiction books, my first guess is an ICU room—which then turns into a question about how much money her family or insurance company has spent. However, based on the direction given by her mother and the receptionists at the entrance hall, I must go to the long-term care facility in the left wing of the hospital.

Just like its name, the area is filled with people who need intensive treatments such as elders and chronically ill kids. I feel anxious when I see a thin and bald guy who’s about the same age as me, but then there’s a glint of warmth when he flirts with a pretty nurse and laughs with her. It’s quieter on the third floor, but since it’s where F/N is staying, the absence of loud noises should mean that the entire hall is reserved for those who are in a deep state of unconsciousness.

When I arrive in front of room number 309, I stop and heave a sigh. All of a sudden, I doubt myself. F/N’s mother has been nice, but what’s the first thing I must say besides “hi” or “I’m sorry”? How long am I allowed to stay with them? What should I talk about other than my remorse for F/N’s condition? I can’t even provide a reasonable explanation behind us breaking off for years because I really don’t hold the right answer.

_Akaashi Keiji, enough with your pointless thoughts._

I squeeze the jar of carnations in my left hand and knock on the door with my right one. It’s like a scene in a suspense movie when I wait for the white door to be opened by a short-haired woman whose skin is as bright as the altered models from a beauty product advertisement. She should be the one I’ve been calling with because her young face awakes the memories I had with F/N as if they’re siblings instead of mother and daughter.

“Akaashi? Oh my, you’re extremely tall and handsome! It’s nice seeing you!” she exclaims before letting me in by opening the door wider.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for—” I can’t finish my sentence when I notice somebody else’s presence in the room. She stands beside the woman sleeping in the bed, and they both look _exactly_ the same.

My mind goes blank as I drop my gaze to the ceramic tiles below, thinking of what currently is happening here. Does F/N have a twin sister? No, she only ever told me about her beloved older brother. So, who is that other woman? I freeze on my place until the doppelganger walks toward me, and I realize that her feet aren’t touching the ground. _She’s floating._ In this eerie hospital room, F/N is unconscious, yet there’s another being who copies her appearance, and that being is floating.

I’m proud to say I’m an ordinary man with a common view of human existence in this world. Just like many of my families and friends; I believe in God, afterlife, near-death experiences, and many things that science can never explain. But not once in my life had I ever thought that a human’s _soul_ could be extracted from their body during a coma and interact normally to their surroundings, and I, of all people, can see it.

“Akaashi? Is there something wrong?”

“Excuse me for a moment,” I whisper because I’m unable to speak any louder. Still carrying all the things I bought for them, I leave the room through the door that hasn’t been shut. My legs weaken and quiver, but I manage not to stumble and fall on my knees.

I must calm down. She isn’t just another “being”. She isn’t a ghost either because F/N is still alive. With the similar attributes they carry, she’s F/N’s _soul_ and nothing else. I shouldn’t even classify them as two separate identities because they’re _one_. This is nothing. It’s still the same woman I know. _Come on, Keiji. Be brave. You’re twenty-eight. You should be more terrified of getting fired than something illogical like this._

“Keiji-senpai?”

I almost lose my cool and shriek when F/N follows me by passing through the wall of the room like it’s the most natural thing to do in the world. I lean against the very same wall and attempt to gain some rationality over this chaos, but she agitates me even more by positioning herself right in front of me. She has no clue I can see her, and it’s probably because I’m trying my best not to look directly into her eyes. I can’t afford to get a bad omen by doing so.

“Wow, it’s really him. I can’t believe it,” she continues. “I thought my mother was lying when she said Keiji-senpai is coming. What is he doing out there? Is he nervous about meeting me after so long? Are those carnations for me? He’s always so thoughtful.”

I gulp down, hoping that this is just a dream, but only a handful of people calls me “Keiji-senpai” and F/N is one of them. When I close my eyes, all I can hear is the sound of the person who used to give me good luck amulets before my volleyball matches and the one who often begged me to fix her complicated math equations. It’s really her. I have no other choice but to accept this mysterious occurrence.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot AHAHAHA.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Thank you for the gift, Akaashi,” F/N’s mother says as she places the bag of sweet potatoes on the long sofa in the corner of the room and the jar of carnations on the empty nightstand between F/N’s bed and the triple pane window. She then pulls a rolling chair from another side and puts it next to the bed.

“You’re welcome… and should I sit there?” I ask.

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but I need to meet a business partner nearby. He’ll call me in ten minutes or so. Is that okay?”

A big part of me is about to weep because I don’t want to be left alone with F/N’s soul who’s standing too close to me. Our height is almost the same, but it’s because of the noticeable space between her feet and the floor. She also doesn’t stand straight by bending her legs backward slightly, which I think is the most comfortable stance for someone who’s used to floating. It drives me crazy that everything she does only makes it more obvious that I’m not dreaming.

“It’s okay,” I mutter as I seat myself on the chair. I hope resting my feet can help me relax, but it’ll be faster if F/N doesn’t glide past her own body to study the carnations. Then again, I can’t blame her because why would she spend extra effort to make a U-turn if objects ahead can’t block her.

“Aww, Keiji-senpai! Did you ask the florist to write these words for me?” After reading the baby blue card glued on the jar, F/N begins talking to me like she knows I can listen. This must be what she does to entertain herself and keep her sanity intact in this state of loneliness.

“Akaashi, why do you look a little pale?” Then her mother follows suit.

“What do you mean by ‘sorry for not looking after you’? You did nothing wrong!”

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“Ugh, why do I have to be in a coma when we finally meet and have so many things to talk about?! Keiji-senpai, I miss you so much! You have no idea!”

“Akaashi?”

“It’s such a pity that I don’t know when I’ll wake up!”

“You don’t have to worry about me, L/N-san. If I’m thirsty, there’s a vending machine in the hall,” I cut through the overlapping chatters as I stare into the older woman’s eyes. “If I may know, how long will the meeting take? Can I buy you dinner afterward?”

She beams with joy. “You’re too sweet, Akaashi. It won’t take more than an hour, and I’ll see the guy at a café nearby. I think we can leave at five thirty. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, but should I stay here, or should I go back to my hotel room?”

“Won’t it be boring if you’re here doing nothing?”

“Kaa-san, why did you say that?!” F/N shouts as if her mother can shiver or sense something from her. “Well, he can go if he wants to. It doesn’t matter because I can follow him back to his hotel. Hehehe.”

_I can follow him back to his hotel. Hehehe._

My mind replays some memorable interactions F/N and I had during our high school days. One thing has been bugging me since the moment I came here, and that is her personality. She used to be very reserved, almost like a weak princess who should experience no harm. She never ran in the hallway or chewed with her mouth open, and I never heard her laugh this foolishly before. It’s very out of character when she can’t stop commenting about my coming and how much she misses me. Her brain injury might be the culprit behind the sudden changes, but as of now, I believe anything is possible.

“I’m sorry, but can you tell me more about her accident? My friend didn’t give me all the details.” Instead of responding to F/N’s mother’s question about me getting bored, I initiate an important topic.

“It was early in the morning, maybe at eight. She was riding her motorcycle home from taking pictures at the summit of Mount Gozaisho, and a truck rammed her from behind. The driver only had a scratch on his forehead, but she got fractured ribs and hips alongside a brain trauma that caused her to be in a coma.” The way she explains without a hitch or pain clouding her face only saddens me. She’s either hiding her real emotion, or she’s already used to living in the tragedy that it’s numbed her.

“In all honesty, it was my mistake for speeding up and not looking around careful enough, but the truck was also going too fast, so I guess it was both on us?” F/N adds, ruining the solemn moment in an instant. What would her mother feel if she found out that her daughter was well, silly, and aware? If only I could find a convincing way to tell her.

“I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. We just have to support her,” I say before jumping onto the next curious thing, “How’s she been doing? She was a little quiet and shy. Is she still the same?”

“…quiet and shy? Was she like that?”

“Yes. She was respected as the president of the student council. Everybody used to praise her work and depend on her. She was almost too perfect.”

“Huh? Is that so? I think she’s become bolder, but she’s never quiet and shy.”

“Here we go again with my mother ruining the good-girl the image I’ve built!”

“What do you mean?” I try my best to concentrate on the woman’s next words because the other voice is too deafening at times.

“She’s a high-spirited person around her brother and me. Was she different in school?”

“Kaa-san, stop.”

“She was. I’m not sure how she was in front of her closest friends, but she never even raised her voice when angry,” I continue, not minding a soul that should’ve been ignored after all. I doubt she has the power to cause thunder and storm out there, so upsetting her isn’t a worry.

“Oh!” F/N’s mother lifts one forefinger like she suddenly gains a revelation. “Was it maybe because she had a crush on you?”

Both F/N and I fall silent, but I’m still staying as cool as a cucumber while her eyes are dilating with terror. It’s not long before she flies to her mother and screams “Kaa-san, please stop!” over and over again. After wandering for three months, she should’ve understood that no one could sense her presence, yet she doesn’t give up. Fifteen minutes ago, I was so afraid of her mystic existence, but right now I can see myself playing along with whatever she does. It’s fun watching this side of her.

“I hope she doesn’t hate me for saying this, but sometimes she still brings you up. ‘I used to do this with Keiji-senpai’, ‘Keiji-senpai loves to eat this’, or things like that,” her mother unfolds the not-so-surprising reason behind her knowledge about me. “She never specifically told me she liked you, but I’m sure she did.”

I form the softest smile I can manage. “She’s a nice person.”

Before she can ask another question, her phone rings and startles everyone in the room. She takes it out of her back pocket and speaks to the caller about shipping cabbages to Okinawa, which should be the business she was talking about. F/N mentioned a few times about her grandparents who own a farm in a city far from Tokyo, so this could be the one. Too bad we can’t talk more about it because our conversation has to be postponed for an hour.

“I must go now, Akaashi. I’ll call you when I’m done,” F/N’s mother tells me after hanging up.

“Thank you. I’ll be waiting here.” I stand up and bow to which she returns the same gesture. She takes a small handbag from the table near the sofas and smiles at me one last time before heading toward the door.

Once her mother leaves the room, I expect F/N to throw another tantrum, but she remains soundless. From the corner of my eye, I catch her gloomy look like she’s holding herself back from tearing up. She might be embarrassed over the humiliation she just received—which can be considered as someone close to her talking behind her back—but it’s no one’s fault because nobody except for me knows she can see and hear everything.

I don’t sit back down and choose to walk closer to the only bed in this room. For the first time in a decade, I can take a thorough look at her real sleeping face. Her hairstyle hasn’t changed much. Her eyelashes are as long as how I remembered them. Her lips are a little cracked, and I wonder if she still has a hobby of trying new lip balm brands. This isn’t how I picture our next meeting would be, but I’m grateful to find no significant difference in her appearance.

“Am I pretty now, Senpai?” After a while, she makes a sound.

Back then, she wouldn’t dare to ask such a question. If her mother’s words are true, then I don’t understand why she’d wear a mask at school. Did she want to garner votes to become the president of the student council? That’d be stupid. In my opinion, the bubbly and straightforward version of her is better than anything else. It can be because I’m always surrounded by people who live life to its fullest, but I do enjoy being around this kind of individuals.

Spontaneously, I stroke her left cheek with the back of my hand. She squeaks while covering her mouth, but I pay no attention to her reaction as I focus on what is tangible; her body more than her soul. I was never brave enough to treat her this way. I often patted her head after she achieved something great, but I always showed my affection with words of affirmation instead of physical touch. Maybe I’ve also changed, just like how fast it took me to adapt to her new form after almost passing out because of it.

“I hope you’ll be awake soon…” I speak as gently as I can. “…F/N.”

“Wha—you’re still calling me by my first name?! If you keep being this nice, then I won’t know what to do! And you’re getting even more handsome, and I’m just—Senpai, I’ll smack your head when I wake up!” she threatens me before running away from this room like a flash of light that my pupils can barely track.

My eyes flutter in awe before I laugh, but not for too loud and long because I can’t let her hear me. But how cute was that? I never thought something that should be regarded as a horror experience can entertain me this much. Then a moment later, I realize that I’m all alone in this room. It’s the perfect time for me to search about her case because she won’t be around to take a peek on what I’m doing.

I lean back against my chair and grab my phone, going to the internet who’s now my only friend and savior. I’m not too special to be the first person being stuck in this mad scheme, but after minutes of searching, there isn’t a single page that isn’t a fiction. However, most of the results describe seeing someone’s soul as a hint that they’ll soon die. The other one is how I’m not supposed to speak to the soul or look into their eyes because our connection can vanish, which is what I’m already doing.

I’m not worried about her death because if she’s meant to leave this world when she’s young, then I have no rights to prevent her fate. But then I read about people not waking up from their coma because they don’t want to. In other words, their subconscious believes that they’d rather die because life isn’t worth living. I can’t speak too soon, but judging from how positive she is, I don’t think she falls under this category. I hope she doesn’t.

* * *

Just as she’d predicted, F/N’s mother comes an hour later with her daughter floating behind her. I offer to carry the souvenir I bought for her, and she doesn’t refuse as she kisses F/N’s forehead and tells her that she and I will be back tomorrow. It’s a no brainer for F/N to stick with us when we leave the hospital. I bet her daily activity consists of following her mother and anyone she knows, or else she’ll really die out of boredom.

We walk for around five minutes to a tiny Italian restaurant called CASAMIA with modern jazz music playing in the background. Lucky for us, there’s an empty table for two among the Saturday crowd that mostly comprises young people who I assume are students from Mie University. I order panzanella, cheesy garlic bread, and spaghetti aglio e olio, while F/N’s mother only goes for pizza capricciosa. As an ex-amateur athelete, I’m never ashamed of my big appetite.

“Do you drink red wine?” I inquire before ordering the cheapest bottle on the menu. When she shakes her head, I end up getting a cold glass of traditional sangria, and she simply asks for iced tea.

“This place is nice, and it’s not too expensive,” she remarks after the waitress left with our order and menus.

“It is.”

“And you have no idea how much I miss eating here,” F/N joins in as she waits behind her mother’s chair. I didn’t think about this before, but does she ever crave for food? Her hunger state must depend on her actual body that gets enough nutrients from the feeding tube, but when she looks at a bowl of ramen without the ability to taste it, she should feel terrible about herself. It’s impressive that she doesn’t seem to be depressed about it.

“L/N-san, if I may know, why did you move out without leaving a single trace?” I carry on with our previous conversation. This day won’t end before I get everything answered.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“I don’t have a lot of friends.”

She laughs at my honest answer. “In short, it’s all because of my ex-husband. He left me for another woman and with some unpaid credit cards. I sold my house and had to run away from debt collectors. It was the lowest point in my life.”

“I’m sorry,” I immediately regret my prying.

“No, what’s passed is past. I was lucky because I found people who were willing to help me.” She smiles broadly, evincing that there’s not a single part of her that’s still grieving.

“But why did you choose this city?” I ask.

“I was born and raised here, so I moved back to my parent’s house. I went to Tokyo when I got married because my ex-husband worked for a company there.”

“F/N told me that her grandparents own a farm.”

“Yes, it’s my parents’ farm. I’m currently working there. F/N used to work there as well, but then she got busy with her job as a photographer.”

“How did she become a photographer? There was a photography club in school, but she never showed interest. I thought she’d study business or finance since she was doing well academically.”

“Don’t people suddenly find a new hobby that can turn into a profession? She said the beauty of this city mesmerized her. She found her calling when she moved here.”

“That’s true!” F/N validates her mother’s explanation, while I can only nod to everything.

“Since I’ve answered your questions, why don’t you answer mine?” F/N’s mother folds her arms on the table, leaning forward to lessen the distance between us. “My daughter didn’t share a lot of stories about her high school life. How did you two meet?”

“It was nothing special,” I say. “I ripped my fingers during volleyball practice, and she was the one caring for me in the infirmary. We just started to greet each other after that.”

Her eyes sparkle with vigor. “Why did you say that it was nothing special?”

“Because it wasn’t special?”

“Are you kidding? That was very sweet, Akaashi! I wish that’s how I met my first love!”

First love.

I thought I’d have to go through the repetitive scene of F/N cursing her mother’s rash wording, but she bites her lower lip and blushes up to her ear. When looking at her, I must focus on her forehead or anything apart from her eyes, and it gets trickier by each passing second because her expressiveness is something to die for. She’s adorable when she’s angry, shy, or speechless. It’d be a delight if the real her were here with us.

“And Akaashi, I’m sorry if this comes off as rude,” F/N’s mother proceeds. “Where were you for the past ten years? If you and my daughter were close, then something must’ve gone wrong until you didn’t talk to each other anymore.”

A waiter who delivers our drinks saves me some time to muster an answer, but isn’t enough and I end up asking her back, “Did F/N ever say anything about it?”

“No. I told you, she never opens up to me.”

“Don’t tell her… Please don’t tell her…” With all heart, F/N pleads. Good for her, I can hear and understand her wishes.

“I guess… People grow up and apart, and we aren’t an exception to that. It doesn’t matter anymore, because right now I’m here,” I say words that bring a smile on their faces. Although I may not look like it, I’m pleased to have found the best way to tackle this subject. From now on, I’ll know what to say.

* * *

F/N wasn’t kidding when she said that she’d follow me to my hotel. She’s right beside me when I walk to the bus station near CASAMIA until I arrive back at my room that’s been cleaned by the housekeepers—even if I don’t give her permission, she won’t know because I can’t directly tell her. As usual, she makes some playful comments along the way about the cold spring weather and how she wants to learn more about my adulthood.

Before taking a shower, I turn on the TV for her to watch—she might think I do it for something else, but I worry more about her getting bored. Fifteen minutes later, I come out in gray pajamas given by the hotel and a towel wrapped around my neck to protect my shoulders from water dripping off my hair. It’s quite heartwarming to see her pay attention to the international news because she doesn’t even react to me sitting on the bed behind her.

“Keiji-senpai hates being alone, huh?” When a tea commercial is broadcasted, she once again starts speaking to herself. “It’s funny that he has to turn the TV on while showering. Don’t tell me he’s scared of ghosts.”

I rub my hair with both hands while keeping my head down as an attempt to hide my stifled laugh. If I ever accidentally interact with her, I’ll blame it all on her innocence. I still can’t believe that this woman is the girl who used to speak only when needed.  

“I don’t smell any tobacco.” She sniffs around, proving that she hasn’t lost her sense of smell, but then she glares at me and almost catches me off guard. “That’s good… but does he have a girlfriend? He hasn’t called anyone, but I can’t be too sure.”

_How cute. You’re right about me not smoking because I can’t stand the smell, but no, I don’t have a girlfriend._

“How many girls has he dated? He’s twenty-eight, so… two in university? Another two after he got a job?”

_I don’t understand where you get that number from, but I’ve never been in a serious relationship. You should’ve known that I don’t date around just because I’m lonely and need relief. Yes, I’m a part of a global phenomenon that some people think as pathetic, but I simply haven’t found “the one”._

“Has he ever missed me? He flew all the way from Tokyo, so I must mean something, right?”

_I do miss you, but I did forget about you for a moment there because of how busy I’ve become. I really consider you as a precious little sister. We shared many memories together, therefore I can’t wipe you off my life when you haven’t done anything wrong. You mean a lot to me._

“And this is so infuriating!” she roars. “So what if he’s single or taken? It has nothing to do with me! He’s here because he has the heart of an angel! He’ll do this to anyone!”

_How could you say that I’ll do this to anyone?_

A sharp pang in my chest puts me to the realization that I’ve been inwardly answering her. I hang my wet towel inside the bathroom and switch off the TV and lights. It’s stupid of me to think that she’d glow in the dark or show something peculiar to indicate that she’s without a body, but she looks the same as me and everyone we’ve encountered so far. I don’t forget to set an alarm at seven in the morning because a single mistake can ruin my trip back home.

“It’s still eight. He must be exhausted.”

Ignoring her observation, I tuck myself into bed. My back is facing her because letting her watch me sleep doesn’t sound like a romantic idea. But I can’t seem to put my mind to rest. I keep thinking about her assuming that I’ve traveled all the way here because I’m kind, and I’ll treat everyone the same. I’m angry at myself for not being able to convince hare that she matters, and I wonder if I should risk it by telling her wrong.

“Was it Nakamura-san who told you about me?” she goes on. “How funny is it that I ended up working with her? I wanted to be like her. My mother was right when she said that I became different when I was around you. I heard from your friends that you preferred someone elegant and well-spoken like Nakamura-san. She also has this dolly look that I wasn’t born with. I thought you’d like me if I behaved more like her. It was such a fool because clearly, you were more than that.”

_What are you talking about? Why didn’t you ask me when you had all the time in the world? I never saw Nakamura that way, and I don’t think I ever will. Praising someone doesn’t equal to liking them._

“Heh… Your hands are still as big as the last I remembered it, but I doubt you’re still playing volleyball. I used to livestream the matches you had in university, but I never dared to see you. Your back is also broader. Maybe it’s always been that way, but it’s been a long time since I got to be this close to you. You’re always so cool, and also…”

She pauses, then I hear a sob that thankfully doesn’t turn into a pool of tears.  I’ve never been prouder of my decision to hide my face because I can cover up my frustration for not being able to do anything to soothe her. She’s not supposed to be this miserable, and I’m partially responsible for it. My appearance might do more good than harm, but in the middle of this confusion, I can’t help but question everything again.

“Senpai, thank you for not telling my mother about what happened ten years ago,” she says with a shaky voice. “I made a promise to myself that if for some reason you appear in front of me again, I’ll apologize and won’t run away anymore. When I wake up, I’ll tell everyone that it’s all my fault. Us severing ties for years is all because of my selfishness.”

_That’s not true. We were still kids back then, and we both didn’t understand our own feelings. It’s not on you or me. Things have changed. We’ve matured, and when you wake up, it’ll be a different story._

“But hey, it’s all good! Why am I feeling down? It must be because I’m expecting too much!” The sorrow in her voice is gone as she goes back to cheering herself. “Keiji-senpai didn’t love me ten years ago, so I’m okay if he doesn’t love me now. From the moment I saw him when I was twelve, and when I see him again now, I still think of him as the love of my life, but it doesn’t mean we have to be together. I should thank him for coming here.”

Her words are sincere, and I don’t deserve a heart this pure. I grit my teeth to suppress my overwhelming emotion. Before today, I never knew that not being able to hold someone in my arms would be this upsetting.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really like the pacing of this chapter because I have bigger things to write about but not enough space. I’ve tried altering it here and there, and this is the best I could come up with. Sorry Abbie if I disappoint you. :>
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

That morning, I stepped out of the hall where my graduation ceremony was held and was greeted by many faces; most were the remaining and old members of my volleyball club, and some were those who I met through other chances. It was a little embarrassing to receive more gifts than other people, but it could be because I’d worked so hard as a captain and class representative in my last year of school. The tears forming on my mother’s eyes couldn’t beat the happiness shown by the friends I’d cared for.

“Congratulations, Senpai.” Among everyone, F/N was the only one speaking casually. Her eyes were a little red, but it didn’t bother me that much because she often stayed up until two to finish her work as the student council president. I’d seen her always not looking too fit in the morning that it’d confuse me more if she were too energetic.

“Thank you,” I responded with a grin. “I’ll go to a Chinese restaurant with my friends. Do you want to come? My mother’s paying.”

“Eh? Can I?”

“Of course!” Those who heard her uncertainty answered on my behalf. She giggled and nodded, accepting the offer without whining.

But she wasn't being her usual self. She kept zoning out and only made a sound when someone specifically asked her something. She didn’t drink the orange juice she ordered, let alone the plateful of fried rice that the others would love to take home for dinner. For two hours, I waited for us to finish the little party, and as soon as we said goodbyes, I stopped her from leaving all by herself.

“Let me walk you home,” I said right in front of the cramped parking lot.

“How about your mother?” she asked.

“She has a car with her.”

“Ah, okay. Thank you very much.”

I’d known her for five years since the beginning of middle school, but we rarely went home together because of our consistently conflicting schedules after school. I was always a part of the school’s volleyball team, and she was always an active member of the student council. I’d end my practice at eight p.m., while the only time she left school that late would be when she had an event to take care of, like a cultural festival or when our governor came to visit.

I thought she’d be happier when we could spend our last day wearing a uniform at the same time, but she treated me like I didn’t exist. If we walked in a busier street, she’d most likely bump against people or poles because even if she looked like she was staring at the road ahead, her mind was flying to everywhere but here. It worried me. Even during her saddest days, she was never this disconnected from her surrounding.

“Hey.” I could no longer hold my concern about her current condition, so I began.

She tilted her head toward me. “Yes?”

“Have you ever lied to me?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Just answer me.”

“I would never lie to you.”

“Then will you tell me what’s the matter with you?”

She stopped moving her feet, and so did I. Then, we stared into each other’s eyes like she was about to reveal the secret her family had been holding for generations. I was glad we stood in an empty alley we used a shortcut to our neighborhood because we had all the space needed to talk about a deep subject. As long as no one came, nothing should bother us.

“Keiji-senpai,” she cooed. “Will you give me anything I want?”

“It depends.”

She forced out a laugh before muttering, “Then… will you kiss my cheek?”

“Huh?” I raised one eyebrow. “Why would you ask something like that?”

Instead of replying with words I could fathom, she brought her head down until I couldn’t see her face anymore. I never thought someone like her would dare to ask such a thing, but people didn’t suddenly change. There must be a greater meaning behind her request that most likely was related to her strange behavior today. However, I doubted she’d explain. It’d been scorching over the past few days, so could it the weather’s fault?

“Even if it’s only on your cheek, you should ask somebody you love to kiss you. You’re old enough to understand this, don’t you?” Using logic, I refused.

“But I’m already doing it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m already asking someone I love to kiss me.”

Her statement didn’t surprise me that much. All the signals she’d sent me were too obvious to ignore, but even if I never fell in love, I knew how love would be. I never had trouble breathing when I saw her, nor had I ever tried to find her trace when I was in public places. For all this time, what I felt for her was adoration and respect from a brother to his sister. It was never more and less. She was special, but I could never imagine myself touching her with lust.

“But the person I ask should also love me back,” she said when I became quiet for too long. “Is that what you want to say, Keiji-senpai?”

“I’m sorry,” I carefully responded. “I consider you as a good friend, but I don’t see you in that way. I hope this doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s okay. Nothing will change. Thank you for being honest,” she said before walking ahead of me. We remained quiet until we arrived at her place, and she took the deepest bow that she’d only give to a teacher or older person she wasn’t close with. It made us feel like strangers, and it pissed me off since just minutes ago I’d told her that this shouldn’t change a thing.

“F/N,” I said after she entered her gate.

“Yes?”

“Will you call me after you calm down?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, Senpai.” She smiled and waved her hand, but a call never came. After a few days, I tried to call her first and didn’t hear anything back. I knew she was keeping her distance away from me, so I tried to be understanding by giving her all the time she needed.

Then a week later, my mother heard from our neighbor that her family had relocated to another prefecture. They didn’t say the exact place nor leave an address. I went to her house to confirm it with my own eyes, and the news was as real as it could get. The only things left in the house were the furniture handled by the moving company they’d hired. I thought she’d be like a protagonist in a movie and entrusted a letter or something memorable for me to the workers, but there was nothing.

To make things worse, she changed her phone number and deactivated her social accounts. I worked hard to get her new ID by forcing her close friends whose mouth had been sealed tight, but when I tried to reach her, what I got was a full shutdown. My messages were read or ignored, and my calls were never answered. A month of one-sided effort was enough to tell me she didn’t want me in her life. So I stopped looking and gave up on us.

But now when I look back to that day, her eyes were probably red because of the arguments her family had and the fact that she had to leave everyone behind. Perhaps the reason she demanded a kiss was to assure herself that a man could love her after her father proved her otherwise. She was an expert in hiding her problems. I could’ve asked more questions instead of telling her to “calm down”, but I didn’t. Despite claiming myself as her brother, I failed to help her.

* * *

F/N is nowhere to be seen when I wake up the next morning. She must’ve gone back to her own house when I fell asleep, so I don’t bother looking for her and head to the bathroom to clean up one last time in this hotel. It’s seven o’clock, and my flight to Tokyo is at four. I pack my bag because I’ve decided to check out now—there’s nothing else I need here so I won’t waste my money and time by going back and forth.

After double checking every corner of the room, I leave with my backpack that gets heavier from my dirty clothes. My next destination is the restaurant downstairs that’ll serve me breakfast, and I almost want to fight the workers because apparently, I need to pay 1,500 yen. It isn’t too costly for a traditional Japanese buffet—salmon and tuna are expensive—but I thought it’d be included in the eight thousand I’ve paid. I’m not frugal; I’m just someone who knows how hard it is to earn my own money.

There aren’t many people inside, so I sit at the table next to the window with the view of the busy streets. It’s a trick of mine to leave out carbs because they’re cheap and filling and go with the meat that no matter where the origin is, will cost more. Their miso soup is one of the best I’ve tasted, but I don’t even drink too much of it because it’ll fill me up too fast. I might also need to tell the couples sitting across from me to stop eating toasted bread and fried eggs.

“Oh, Keiji-senpai is here!”

Just as I serve myself a second plate of grilled eels with unagi sauce, F/N comes into the restaurant. At least this time she uses the door and doesn’t just pop her head from under my table, which is something that I’m sure she can do. I let her inspect my food and make some remarks about me missing rice and vegetables, but I ignore her as I sip my glass of freshly-squeezed lemon juice. They should bottle this juice and create a trademark out of it.

I register that F/N’s able to lean against an object when she sits on the table beside me, but I think that’s not the case. Since she’s a soul, her body must be weightless. She doesn’t actually feel the table, but she can make herself stay on it without feeling tired. There are too many things I need to know after everything she said last night, so I wonder if I should interact with her. I don’t want to break our connection, but isn’t it better to try and regret later than stay silent and not resolve anything?

“Did you sleep well?” I’m a little surprised by the calmness of my voice. Seems like I can’t hold the barrier between us.

Not knowing how to react, she parts her lips before looking behind to find no one there. Then she turns back around to shoot me a puzzled look, seemingly unsure if I’m really talking to her. This is going well because our eyes are meeting for the first time in a decade, and I still retain the ability to see her. I should go back to the internet and correct those people who theorize otherwise.

“Yes. You,” I continue, putting my glass down. “What did you do last night when I was asleep? Do you even need rest?”

“Eh?!” she shrieks as her face goes paler. “You can see me?!”

I nod and smile like there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s hard not to laugh when she immediately stands up and dashes outside through the windows in front of us. She stops before reaching the road—perhaps because she realizes that she can’t run away forever—and glances at me over her shoulder. Her expression is a total mess. She should be mortified because she’s shown me her antics, or happy since she doesn’t have to feel so lonely anymore.

My stomach isn’t as full as I’d like it to, but I can’t wait to straighten things out with her. I wear the backpack I’ve put down on the floor, give the key of my room back to the receptionists, and run after her. The reason she chooses not to float should be because she doesn’t want to scare me and because of that, she looks like a normal human being. As the distance between us decreases, I almost follow my heart and embrace her in a tight hug, but then I’m reminded that I’m physically unable to do that.

“Forgive me.” Before I get the chance to speak, she bows. “Senpai, I’m really sorry for everything.”

“It’s good you’re sticking to the promise you made to yourself.”

“You don’t have to mention that!” she shouts with teary eyes that capture everything except my face. I don’t want her to hold back, but I also don’t want her to cry if it’s out of regrets. But after leaving me hanging for so long, at least I have the rights to take a little revenge on her.

“There must be a reason why I’m the one who can see you,” I start my teasing.

“Yes, I’m sure…” She fastens her eyes on the ground between our feet.

“Do you have any idea?”

“N-no, but I regret what I did…”

“What did you do?”

“I pushed you away.”

“Ah. For ten years?”

“…yes.”

“That wasn’t nice.”

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t bow down,” I prevent her from bending herself again. Once is more than enough. I won’t let her treat me like I’m in a higher position.

“Yes. I’m sorry, please don’t get mad at me…” she pleads.

“I’m not mad.”

“…I don’t believe that.”

“Okay, but can we talk as we walk?” I let her go after noticing some people who have been whispering behind me. In their eyes, it must look like I’m talking to myself. I must go home in a few hours, so I can’t afford being suspected by officers patrolling the area.

“O-of course! Do you want to visit the hospital? Why don’t you call my mother?” Still keeping her sight away from mine, she leads the way ahead.

“I’ll do it later after we finish talking. How are you?”

“Eh… I’m not fine because I’m stuck in the plane between life and death. How are you?”

“I’m fine because I have the privilege to interact with the one stuck in the plane between life and death. Your family would pay money to obtain my power.”

The sound of her giggles warms me up. “How are your parents, Senpai? Are you still living with them?” she asks.

“No, I’ve been living by myself in a small flat for six years. My parents are doing well.”

“Glad to hear that. I hope my mother will find a new boyfriend. It’s been ten years, but we can always hope.”

“Are you still in contact with your father?”

“I don’t have a father.” Her sentence is sharp and bitter. This must be what her mother meant about her being bolder. She never got mad at anyone who wronged her, but her father must’ve done something inconceivable to make himself dead in her eyes.

“Do you ever feel hungry?” I switch to a lighter topic.

“No. Neither do I need to shower, poop, pee, or fart. I can’t vomit. I can’t feel heat or cold.  It doesn’t hurt when I slap myself. I miss being itchy. I don’t feel like a human anymore,” she describes everything I need to know with some unnecessary additional information because I don’t care if she can still fart or not.

“Is this the real you?” I remark.

“We’re not going to talk about that—no, don’t give me that smirk! I'm serious!”

But how can I keep my face straight when she’s being this endearing? If only I could pat her head, I’d do it right at this moment.

* * *

I arrive at the hospital when two nurses are cleaning F/N’s room, including changing her basic necessities such as her clothes and feeding tubes. They do their job without uttering a single complaint, and F/N confirms their dedication by sharing all the wonderful things they’ve done for her. She thought she wouldn’t get a maximum treatment because it could all go futile when she ended up dying, but the workers here have treated her like their own family.

“Hello. Are you F/N’s friend? I haven’t seen you before.” A woman in her forty suddenly appears in the hallway and greet me with a smile. She wears a plain blue t-shirt and white trousers, so she can’t be a nurse or a doctor who always has their uniform on.

“It’s Akechi-sensei, my physiotherapist who’s also my mother’s new best friend. She’s really nice, but a bit nosy.” Like she can read my mind, F/N enlightens me. A physiotherapist is someone who rehabilitates injured patients or people with disabilities exercise so they can pick up their daily activity once they get better. This therapy is particularly important for someone like L/N who’s been immobile for three months.

“Yes, I’m Akaashi Keiji, her friend from Tokyo,” I reply.

“Tokyo? That’s far. I’m Akechi, her physiotherapist. Is her mother coming?” Akechi asks.

“I’ve called her. She’ll be here soon.”

“Then, Akaashi Keiji, do you want to help me?”

“You don’t have to, Senpai.”

“I’ll help,” I decide for myself and pay no mind to F/N’s words. The three of us wait for the nurses to leave the room with the used clothes and other bits and pieces in their hands before coming in. The only difference I see in this room is the color of pajamas F/N is having. Since her soul is in a shirt and hiking pants, it only means that she wore them during the accident. In other words, her soul isn’t updating her appearance.

“The flowers weren’t there yesterday.” Akechi smiles at me. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” I say as we circle the bed, her standing beside the table where the jar of flowers is placed, and I’m on the other side with F/N next to me. She yanks the blanket off F/N’s body and shows a fragile figure underneath. She looks weaker and smaller than her soul, and it breaks me to see her in this unhealthy state. I must always remember that her body is the important one. Our secret interaction is precious, but our mission is to awaken her.

“We do this twice a day, in the morning and afternoon. First, we massage her to relax her muscles.” With both palms, Akechi kneads F/N’s right leg. “Go on. Help me with the other one.”

I glance at the flustered woman beside me before following Akechi’s command—I wish I could say “F/N is watching, so I think I can’t do this”. We pull F/N’s toes and massage her ankles right up to her thighs. The only person I’ve done this for is my mother, but it usually doesn’t last for too long because she’ll end up lyin on her belly and ask me to step on her back. She’ll call it a day after she hears some cracking sounds. If only we could do the same to F/N.

“Nervous, aren’t we?” Akechi asks with a playful smirk. “I never thought she’d have a friend this good looking. I thought her brother was already a God’s gift to the world, then she also has you. What a lucky girl.”

“Thank you.”

She halts her work for a moment just to take one long look at me. “You’re tall. One hundred eighty-five centimeters?”

“Around that, yes.”

“Do you play any sports?”

“I used to play volleyball in school.”

“You have a good posture, but mind you, F/N’s brother is in the army. He’s just as sturdy as you, and if you break her sister’s heart, he can kill you in one strike with bare hands. He won’t even like you for touching her sister like this.” Akechi’s way of speaking is very intimidating that it feels as if she has the book of life which lists all the bad things I’ve done in life. However, one doesn’t simply make me feel so helpless and small. Her warning doesn’t work on me because she’s the one who asked for my help.

“My brother is very protective of my mother and me,” F/N adds, wrapping her hands in front of her chest. “He’ll really do something if you hurt one of us.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I accidentally respond while looking sideways at her, but I soon realize my mistake when Akechi gives me a confused look.  “—her. I’m not going to hurt her,” I immediately correct myself by pointing at the girl’s sleeping face.

“Pfft.” Her giggle is adorable as always, but I don’t appreciate how she acts like it’s entirely my fault to begin with. If everyone can see her, they’ll perceive her as a human like all of us. Her body isn’t transparent, so they must touch her to find out the truth.

“You know, it might be a good thing that you’re here,” Akechi says as she goes back to F/N’s leg and stretches it vertically. She orders me to do the same to the other one. Fifteen reps each. It’s not like I can refuse.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“There are two forms of therapy for comatose patients; physical and emotional. They can hear us even if most of them won’t remember any of it once they wake up. A few years ago I got malaria and was unconscious for a week, and I could hear everything my parents and friends told me. They told me to wake up soon, I wanted to, and I did. Words said by our loved ones can help us recover faster.”

_Oh, I can’t talk about everyone, but surely F/N can still hear us._

“One doesn’t come all the way from Tokyo just to meet a friend,” Akechi continues. “Maybe she needs a true love’s kiss.”

“Ugh! Akechi-sensei talks too much sometimes!” F/N blurts out, and I smile, not because I think this talk is shallow and amusing but because I wonder if a true love’s kiss could really wake her up like a fairytale. I’m too old for believing in this thing, but after witnessing the mystical for the past eighteen hours or so, who am I to refute that anything is possible?

* * *

I spend the last few hours of my visit by talking to F/N’s mother about her life. The next time I’m here, she promises to bring me to her uncle’s pasture in Kumano, a tiny town in the south of Tsu. She then tells me about her caring son who’s deployed in Kumamato, where the west army of the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force is based on. No matter how busy he is, he never forgets to go home at least once a month. He often spends hours sharing the stories from his workplace to his unconscious sister.

It’s hard not to think that if only her husband hadn’t betrayed her, this family would’ve been as perfect as the one pictured in televisions. Her daughter wishes she find another partner—which I can agree with because she deserves to be loved—but when I think about it, trusting someone after getting hurt that badly isn’t an easy thing. It won’t be wrong if she’s had enough, and all she wants to do during her old age is to see her children grow. I’m glad that F/N didn’t turn into someone with trust issues because then I wouldn’t stand a chance to be a part of her life anymore.

“I must leave now,” I announce when the time on my phone hits one p.m. My flight will leave in three hours, but the ferry ride is forty-five minutes long, and there are many bus stops I must take. There’ll be another flight if I miss one, but I can’t throw away money like it’s growing in my garden.

F/N’s mother seems woeful over my departure, but I have to work early in the morning. I can’t call in sick after telling some friends that I’ll be visiting a friend in another town, and I don’t want my salary to get cut off either. I don’t think she’s lonely because she has many of her family members here. Whatever it is, the way she looks at me pulls at my heartstring, and it makes me feel like I’m leaving my mother who’s been begging me to stay. It’s that sad.

“When will you come again?” she asks.

“Maybe next month. I can’t afford coming so often.”

“If I help pay for your flight, can you come next week?”

I shake my head, standing up from my chair. “I can’t let you do that, L/N-san. Don’t worry. I’ll save up, and I’ll definitely come again.”

“…okay.” She gives up on forcing me and smiles. “Don’t forget to say goodbye to F/N.”

She doesn’t have to tell me because I’m already planning to do it. I move closer to the bed in front of me and strokes F/N’s head, whispering “see you later” while her soul watches me intently. I should buy an accessory for her hair, maybe some crystal clips that she can use with various outfits. I also imagine the color of lipsticks and blushes that’ll complement her skin. She’s beautiful that I want to do anything to make her even prettier.

“Please don’t give up,” my next words flow so easily as I play with her hair a little bit more.

“Thank you, Akaashi. Take care on your way,” her mother says in a murmur after I let go.

“I’ll be leaving now. Thank you for everything. I had fun.”

We bow to each other and just like that, I take my bag and step out of the room with F/N who of course is walking by my side. Throughout our way, I’m waiting for her to say something hysterical about her mother—maybe that she agrees with her family paying for my flight—but she shuts her mouth like she ruminates on the end of the world. I’d say that she also doesn’t want me to leave, but her lack of expression affirms nothing. It stays this way until we reach the front yard of the hospital.

“Are you coming with me to the airport?” I stop where there aren’t many people passing by and stare at her.

“No, we should part here. It’s too far for me to come back alone.”

“You can’t teleport?”

“Hahaha. I wish I could. I’d be in Canada now.”

“Well, then…” I try patting her shoulder, knowing full well that I can feel nothing. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you again.”

“Senpai,” she calls me out loud before I manage to bring my hand down.

“Yes?” I ask.

“In case we don’t meet again, I love you.”

Her confession stuns me. Could this be the thought filling her mind as we left the hospital? Seeing her rosy cheeks and bashful grin, it must be it. _In case we don’t meet again._ She knows there’s no guarantee of her survival. No one has ever claimed that there’s a hundred percent chance of her waking up. The next time I’m here, I might lose this power. No one can predict the future, just like how I suddenly met Nakamura who worked with her, got her address, and went to see her again.

“Have you ever lied to me?” I begin with the question I asked her ten years ago. The situation has changed, but the weight of words remains the same.

“Hmm… I’ve lost count, but I won’t do it anymore,” she gives a more realistic answer.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then… last night when you said that it’s okay if I don’t love you back this time, did you really mean it?”

She coyly curls her lips upward and shakes her head. “I didn’t.”

“I was going to ask you to call me, but we can’t do that, can we?”

Her laugh puts me at my ease, and I’ll tell her everything the next time we meet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! ❤
> 
> [Read the xOC version.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13268855/1/Earthbound/)   
>  [My Twitter.](https://twitter.com/itsmakimono/)


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